Ocean Song

Friday June 28, 2013 § Leave a comment

dim and outsized
the tides were a terrible burden

endless symptoms of reclamation, the
beginnings of elsewhere lapping at your feet

and in their shallow retreat
carving to the perfect absence

there is nothing else in nature that so cleanly
and precisely marks what isn’t there

or that measures with such gleeful abandon
your growing distance from it

Prologue (4-5 May, 2006)

Saturday December 29, 2012 § Leave a comment

the indelicate balance is disturbed, riotously;
            shorthand for the first hot day of the year
uncalm, and intemperate

                        a slow move back to normality begun then
the old grievances untangled from the new
promises seen in their proper proportion

distances measured by how far you can move
in a day

              reclining gracelessly on the First Great Western
Service into Didcot station.


‘I am sick, because I have given myself away.’
– D H Lawrence

I am sure this life is no good for me, the
insidious neglect, encouraged by our providers
no thin socialist dream this, only observation –

look at me, cold beer resting on the stoop,
trying to prove a negative…


Walking Home (Earlier)

Wednesday August 29, 2012 § Leave a comment

Staking out across open ground
blinking worldly through the several stations
of the familiar respite,
                          the serial connotations of
another day spent facing down shadows
& thinning through the descent, now
            dip to the underpass
            a portrait, without the
            inward/outward glance of pity &
            a sudden waft of perfume
            the slow conglomeration of scents
            & such gravitas, such good sense,
            & so proud of the distinction
            what with
            the honourable declension
            rather neatly put &
            like the clatter of carriage wheels breaking overhead
            longing is deferred,
            and uncategorized.

            Then picking up the thread
            the other side
            the necklace of street lamps
            brandishing the horizon is
            being trapped inside
            the same as finding no outside?

            There is no such thing, such light is all memory
            artificial, illuminating
            and forever snaking out into longer spaces.


Don’t Let The Hours Set You Off Your Stride, 27 February, 2007

Sunday June 3, 2012 § Leave a comment


Don’t let the hours set you off your stride, beguiled
By the arithmetic of so much love
Tender as the mid-morning sun
Lying broken on the hearth, resisting interpretation
Even understanding, leaving you nothing to
Conjure with, only the bookish twilight
Enveloping the surfaces, the glassy-eyed
Reversal of the night, then, more than ever,
Don’t let the hours set you off your stride, beguiled



‘The sky is unsunned’, 3 August, 2006

Tuesday April 17, 2012 § Leave a comment


For Jase

The sky is unsunned, blanked by significance
clouds lettering the empty page, incomplete

this town is a hunch
                                & you look surprised
as though each day you have discovered it afresh
a secret unlearned

                       how can we mitigate
              the shambles of meeting

                                                   still less
the longing that curves beyond our
             still and helpful

less insistent because as a found thing we can
kid ourselves that it brings



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